


Time for Heroes

by tygermine



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Community: reel_merlin, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-10
Updated: 2012-09-10
Packaged: 2017-11-13 23:01:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/508665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tygermine/pseuds/tygermine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone has started the end of the world. Can Detective Inspector Pendragon and hacker Merlin stop them before we're back in the dark ages?<br/>Written for Reel_Merlin 2012. Die Hard 4 AU.<br/>No real warnings, just bad guys being blown up and Morgana using her Louboutins as deadly weapons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time for Heroes

**Author's Note:**

> Mega thanks go to my beta's creepylicious and y3llowdaisi3s. Also, apologies for any hacker/coding speak i got wrong.

“Ok, I’m sending the upload in a second, ready?”

 

“Command should be coming up…now.”

 

“Got it. Code has been dumped,” Merlin smiled. “So, that’s it then?”

 

“Yes,” came the feminine voice over the headphones. “The money has been wired to your account.”

 

“That’s a very sexy voice you have there,” said Merlin, leaning back in his ergonomic chair, looking up at the various posters plastered all over the walls. “Maybe…we could…I dunno…coffee?”

Merlin smacked a hand over his eyes. He was such a fucking failboat at this. He heard the voice huff a laugh.

 

“Maybe another time. Gotta go.”

 

The line went dead.

 

Merlin shrugged and was about to log into World of Warcraft, when two things happened at once. His screen flickered for a second and there was a pounding on his front door. He looked between his computer and the door, torn over which he should see to first. The pounding repeated itself on the door, making the decision for him.

 

He heaved himself out of his chair and headed towards the door, leaning against it to squint through the peep hole. A badge blocked his view. An official looking badge with a crest and everything. He sighed and opened the door as far as the chain would allow.

 

“Can I help you, officer?” Merlin looked the policeman over. Tall, broad shoulders, long legs and a frown that caused one to automatically form on Merlin’s forehead.

 

“Detective Inspector, actually.” The man said, waving the badge as if Merlin knew the difference.

Well, actually he did, but that’s a long story.

 

“Detective Inspector, what’s the problem?”

 

The Detective Inspector shifted his weight. “I’m looking for Merlin Emrys.”

 

“I haven’t violated a single condition of my parole,” Merlin said, eyes widening.

 

“I’m not here because of that. You need to come down to HQ with me.” The Detective Inspector grit out between clenched teeth.

 

“I’m not in trouble?”

 

The Detective Inspector shook his head, but Merlin would swear he heard him mutter “Not yet, anyway.”

 

Merlin opened the door and allowed the Detective Inspector inside. “I just need to shut down my gear.”

 

The Detective Inspector looked around and nodded. He approached a bookshelf, bending under the weight of Merlin’s collectables. He reached out and took a special edition Punisher action figure and began playing with it. “So, you play with dolls?”

 

Merlin’s head whipped around. “No, just, put it down. It’s very valuable.”

 

As he said this, the head came off in the Detective Inspector’s hand. “Oops,” he said sheepishly.

 

“Look, just, leave it alone. I need to shut this down.” Merlin went to the computer. As he bent to type in the shut down sequence, a single bullet lodged inself in the wall above his head.

 

In an instant, the Detective Inspector had him pinned to the floor. The air exploded with bullets shattering the windows and riddling the walls with holes.

 

“What the fuck?” Merlin shouted and curled into the fetal position on the floor under the

Detective Inspector – Merlin really had to get his name – as he pulled a gun from his hip holster.

 

“Shut up,” he snapped and slid off Merlin, leopard crawling towards the kitchen.

 

Merlin was once again torn. He wanted to desperately save his collectables, but at the same time, he valued his life and felt that following the Detective Inspector would be a step in that direction.

 

He slithered after the cop, bullets whizzing far too close to his person than he was comfortable with.

Using the fridge as cover, the cop leaned up and looked out the window. Bullets smashed it to pieces, forcing the cop back to the floor.

 

He swore up a storm.

 

“Now what?” Merlin asked.

 

“We need to get outside, to the car.” He said, firing off a few shots out the window. In retaliation, the shooters took out Merlin’s kitchen cabinets. Unpopped popcorn kernels and cereal snowed down on them.

 

Merlin took off running for the front door, which exploded, throwing him back into the kitchen against the cop.

 

“Ow,” Merlin whined as he was pushed off the cops lap and onto the floor. The Detective Inspector changed the clip for his gun and grabbing Merlin by the collar, pulled him along, firing off shots until they reached the door. He pushed Merlin into a corner and stepped through the doorway. A few seconds later, a figure came hurtling back into the room. Merlin closed his eyes and prayed for the noise and madness to end. Rough hands grabbed him again and he was barreling down the hallway towards the front door.

 

As the men reached the pavement, Merlin’s flat exploded! Fireballs shot through the windows.

 

“There goes my life,” he grumbled, watching the smoke billow into the night sky. The Detective Inspector shoved him into the passenger seat of his unmarked BMW X5.

 

Shot’s pounded the tarmac around them as the cop threw the car into gear and peeled out of the parking lot.

 

**

 

Arthur was having a bad day. It was a bad day after a bad month that made a bad year. And now he was not only being shot at, again, he had hoodlums hanging onto the roof of his car and the young man next to him looked moments from a full on panic attack.

 

He slammed on the brakes, throwing the mercenary off the front of the car. As the man got to his feet, Arthur pressed down the pedal and careened into the man, squashing him against a dumpster. His passenger gaped and turned a weird shade of green. Arthur grimaced and reversed, driving over the hoodlums behind them until he hit the main road and shot off towards Scotland Yard.

 

So much for an easy assignment. He was going to kill Leon.

 

**

They were approaching the west end, traffic slow and drivers irritated as the sun began to rise.

 

“So, what’s your name, Detective Inspector?” Merlin asked, mostly to relieve the boredom.

 

“Pendragon, Arthur Pendragon.” He slid his eyes towards Merlin.

 

“Pendragon? As in the Pendragon family? They own like, half the known world! You’re that Pendragon? What are you doing working for the fuzz?”

 

Arthur opened his mouth to reply when right in front of them, a bus crossed the intersection, only to be hit along the side by a black cab and an expensive looking Mercedes.

 

“Did you see that?” Merlin sat up straighter, eyes wide.

 

The traffic stopped dead.

 

“Stay here,” Arthur said tersely and climbed out the car, racing towards the accident. The traffic outside Great Portland street became gridlocked. Arthur checked on the drivers and bus passengers. No one was seriously hurt. Then he spotted Merlin standing on the roof of his car. That could get him killed. Arthur would shoot the boy himself. As Arthur approached the car, ready to pull him off his roof, Merlin caught his eye.

 

“Come look at this,” he said, reaching out a hand to help Arthur up. Arthur scowled but took the proffered hand and climbed up next to Merlin. He gaped at the sight. People were streaming out of the station across from them. All the traffic lights in every direction were green, but no one was going anywhere. He had to get to HQ.

 

He jumped down from the car. “Come on, we need to get going.”

 

Merlin followed him after a second. “You’re just gonna leave your car?”

 

“It’s not going anywhere.” He started a slight jog in the direction of the west end, only to be stopped by Merlin who was gasping.

 

“No…no running…can’t…” he gasped.

 

Arthur rolled his eyes. “We don’t have time for this, we need to get going.” He spotted one of the mayor’s bike rental stalls and after flashing his badge, commandeered two bicycles. He handed one to Merlin. “Tell me you know how to ride a bike.”

 

Merlin pulled a face and mounted the bike. “I’ve ridden better,” he muttered but began to pedal furiously after Arthur.

 

Who the hell had frozen the traffic lights? What the hell was going on? Why were mercenaries trying to kill him? Had the explosion destroyed his coveted Buffy action figure? Merlin’s heart clenched at the thought – or it could be due to the first actual exercise he’d done since, well, high school. In front of him, Detective inspector Pendragon was wheeling away, not even breaking a sweat. Merlin decided that Arthur was a freak of nature. Ok, a good looking freak of nature who’s arse was straddling the bike saddle in a very evocative…oh for heavens sake, his life was in danger and he was perving over the copper? What the hell? He was obviously traumatized.

 

Arthur’s mind was whirling. What the hell was happening? First the mysterious instruction to go collect Merlin, a government monitored hacker, then the shooting and explosion of the apartment, now all the traffic lights were stuck on green? Arthur wanted answers, and he wanted them now. He pedalled harder.

 

**

 

Scotland Yard was in absolute chaos. Officers were running around, trying to calm the panicked masses that streamed through the door.

 

Arthur grabbed Merlin by the sleeve and pulled him into the inner offices, heading straight for Leon’s office.

 

It was crowded with uniforms, Leon standing over his desk, examining a map.

 

“-and then who know’s what they might hit,” one of the analysts was saying as they stepped inside.

 

“Leon,” Arthur said, over the din. “I’ve brought in Emrys. What now?”

 

Leon paled, his lips in a tight line. He turned to a board behind him, full of pictures and print outs. “Emrys, do you recognise any of the people in these pictures?”

 

Merlin’s eyes travelled over the pictures and he bit back a gasp. “No. Don’t know them at all. What’s this about?”

 

“Last night, every person in on this board died. An explosion in each apartment.”

 

“We were attacked at Emrys’ place. By experts,” Arthur turned to Merlin. “What exactly is it that you do?”

 

“Maths based security systems for companies.”

 

Arthur nodded. “So you’re a hacker.” He stated.

 

“Retired.” Merlin pointed out.

 

Arthur turned his back to Merlin and began discussing plans with Leon. Merlin wandered around the office, taking in the files and reports pinned to the boards. A tv in the corner that no one was paying much attention to began to flicker. An image of the queen came onto the screen.

 

“Citizens of Great Britain,” it began. The voice was cold, digital and chilling. “On this Jubilee weekend, we are here to celebrate the reigning monarchy…”

 

“Hey,” Merlin said. Everyone ignored him. He scrambled towards the desk, trying to find the remote.

 

“What the hell?” Arthur turned around. “Emrys, what is wrong – “

 

Merlin pressed up the volume on the tv, drowning out dying conversations.

 

“-On this most auspicious of nights, permit me then, in lieu of the more commonplace soubriquet, to suggest the character of this dramatis persona. Voila! In view humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the “vox populi” now vacant, vanished. However, this valorous visitation of a bygone vexation stands vivified, and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin, van guarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition.  
  


The only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta, held as a votive not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous.  
  


Verily this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose, so let me simply add that it’s my very good honour to meet you and you may call me Mordred.”

 

Merlin paled. “Oh fuck me. It’s a fire sale.”

 

“Isn’t that the speech from V for Vendetta?” asked one of the analysts.

 

“Shut up!” shouted Leon. “No one said anything about a fire sale.”

 

Arthur dragged Merlin out the office and into a quiet corner. “What’s a fire sale?”

 

Leon followed them. “It is not a fire sale.” He insisted. Arthur ignored him and stared Merlin down.

 

“What is a fire sale?” he repeated.

 

“It’s a theoretical apocalypse scenario. We used to talk about it online. Like hitting the reset button. I always thought it’d be cool,” Merlin explained. Arthur grabbed his arm and twisted him to face the outer office, crowded with hurt, panicked people.

 

“So you think that’s cool?” Arthur ground out.

 

“In theory!” Merlin defended.

 

“Okay, so how does this work?” Arthur said, fighting the building headache. He needed coffee. Lots of coffee.

 

“Well, in theory, you first take out the the computers. That stalls your transportation, communications and then utilities – water, gas, electricity. Everything must go.”

 

The collected stares of disbelief from Arthur and Leon made Merlin cringe. It wasn’t his idea and now they were looking at him as if he pushed the enter button.

 

“They’ve already hacked the cctv system and the traffic flow,” Merlin said, pointing out the window. “Now the tv channels. They’re gonna hit here next.”

 

Leon grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. “How do you know that? Are you working for them?”

 

“No! It just makes sense. Like dominoes!” Merlin shouted, disentangling himself from Leon’s grip.

Sirens began to wail throughout the building.

 

“Sir!” shouted one of the analysts. “It’s the arsenic alarm!”

 

“Everyone, evacuate the building!” Leon shouted.

 

Arthur grabbed Merlin and dragged him into an empty stairwell. “How do we stop them,” he asked.

 

Merlin looked around nervously. “You can’t.” he said. “Once it’s started you can’t stop it.”

 

Arthur punched the door, hard. Merlin winced. “That’s unacceptable.”

 

“Unacceptable?” Merlin laughed. “Who are you? Mr Darcy? Unacceptable,” he muttered.

 

Arthur ignored the comment. “What’s the next step?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“Think! Merlin, if you were planning this, what would be the next step?” Arthur grabbed him by the bicep and began dragging him down the stairs.

 

The blaring siren was giving Merlin a headache and he was battling to think straight.

 

“I know someone who can tell us,” he said as they burst into the underground parking.

 

Arthur went into a booth, grabbed a set of keys and pressed the remote until they found the right car. The pair climbed in, buckled up and Arthur gunned the car out of the parking lot and into traffic. He wove through the cars.

 

“Where are we going?” he asked Merlin.

 

“Cardiff,” Merlin said.

 

“Wales?” asked Arthur.

 

Merlin nodded. Arthur reached for the radio and called dispatch.

 

“This is Detective Inspector Pendragon, requesting assistance. Over.”

 

“Go ahead DI Pendragon, what assistance? Over.”

 

“I need to get out of this traffic. Can you advise? Over.”

 

The woman’s voice began to lead them through the London gridlock. Something about her lilt and accent caught Merlin’s attention.

 

He grabbed Arthur’s arm before he could respond to the dispatcher.

 

“Arthur, I know that voice.”

 

Arthur just raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

 

“You have to believe me. I know that voice. It’s the same woman that I spoke to last night.” Could it have only have happened last night? Merlin felt as if he’d been awake for days.

 

“You sure?” Arthur asked.

 

“Positive. She was the one I sent the code to,” Merlin grimaced at the look Arthur gave him.

 

“Dispatch, things must be mental on your side, what with all those IC710s out there.” Arthur said, smirking.

 

“Yes, sir,” the dispatcher responded. “We’ve dispatched all units.”

 

“Yes, all those naked aliens running around. Listen you stupid bint,” Arthur’s voice dropped to a growl. “Put you boss on the line.”

 

There was as shuffling on the line and a voice came on that chilled them both to the bone.

 

“Detective Inspector Pendragon,” the voice sneered down the line.

 

“Who am I speaking to?” Arthur asked.

 

“No names, DI Pendragon. Tell me, why don’t you hand over Emrys to us and we can make you even richer than you already are. We won’t touch the Pendragon shares. And tell me, how is your dear little fiance? Oops, I mean ex-fiance. And your darling sister…”

 

“You leave them alone,” Arthur growled, knuckles white on the steering wheel.

 

A strange whump whump sound caught Merlin’s attention. He rolled down the window and looked up. A black helicopter was following them. Merlin tapped Arthur on the arm.

 

Arthur frowned at him as Merlin pointed up. The helicopter overtook them and turned to face them. There was a man sitting on the edge, machine gun in hand.

 

“We gotta go,” Arthur said into the radio and slammed on the brakes, dragging Merlin across the two seats after him and out the door. Seconds later the car was riddled with bullet holes. The bullets trailed after them, shooting up tar, pavements and clods of earth as the boys raced through the maze of side streets until they found themselves at the Embankment. Arthur pulled over a car, hauled the driver out, and drove off towards Tower Bridge.

 

“What the hell are you doing?” Merlin shouted at the retreating car. He ran down the Embankment, following the car as it swerved onto the bridge. Suddenly the bridge began lifting, parting in the center. Arthur stopped the car at the end of the bridge, watching as the helicopter bore down on him. Bullets splashed up water and sent showers of masonary flying into the air as the bullets got closer and closer to the car.

 

Merlin stood, feet frozen, heart in his throat as Arthur threw the car into reverse, backed up the street a few hundred yards then put it in drive, gunned the pedal and the car sped towards the bridge. As the car neared the summit of the bridge where it was raised, Arthur jumped out of the car, rolling straight into the side of the bridge. The car continued its ascent, straight into the helicopter.

The fireball was huge as the wreckage fell into the Thames. Merlin raced up to where Arthur was lying, laughing to himself. He skidded to a stop next to the DI.

 

“You…you..you just took out a helicopter with a car!” he exclaimed.

 

Arthur smirked. “I ran out of bullets,” he said.

 

Merlin couldn’t help himself, he was so happy to see Arthur alive, he threw his arms around him and planted a kiss on his lips.

 

Arthur froze at the contact. Merlin pulled back a few seconds later. “You ok?” he asked Arthur.

 

“Yeah, yeah.” Arthur heaved himself to his feet and they began ambling back down the bridge towards the road.

 

**

 

A few hours later, the sun was high in the sky and the two were in a borrowed police car and heading to Wales.

 

“Who are we going to see in Wales?” Arthur asked, wincing as he accidentally bumped a bruise against his holster.

 

“A guy who knows about this stuff. Calls himself SirKnowItAll.”

 

Arthur laughed. “Well, here’s hoping they know it all.”

 

A few miles later Arthur glanced at Merlin. “So, why’d you do it?”

 

“Do what? The hacking? It’s a challenge, a thrill,” Merlin grew quiet and looked out the window.

 

“You knew those faces, in the pictures,” Arthur said, softly.

 

Merlin nodded. “They were my friends. We worked on the security systems together. They were a great LAN team. You know how hard it is to find a decent Call of Duty team?”

 

Arthur gave him an odd look. “Any idea why anyone would want you and your team dead?”

 

“We were working on this coding for a new bank security system. They didn’t give us the full code. Just bits and pieces. We weren’t allowed to discuss it with anyone else. Which isn’t new. Many companies sub contract their systems protection to us.”

 

“So you have no idea what you were actually hacking?”

 

“No.”

 

**

 

It was close to midnight when they finally reached Wales. The entire country was in darkness.

 

“They hacked the power grid,” Merlin observed.

 

“How do we find his house?” Arthur griped, not in the mood to get lost in Cardiff.

 

“His will be the only one with lights,” Merlin said.

 

Half an hour later they pulled up in front of the house. Merlin walked up to the door and knocked. A middle aged woman opened the door.

 

“Good evening Mrs. Macken, is Gwaine home?”

 

The look Mrs. Macken gave them was venomous. “Gwaine!” she shouted over her shoulder. “There are some people here to see you.”

 

There was no reply.

 

“He’s in the back garden shed.” She said and let them through the house.

 

Merlin led Arthur through the back yard until they came to a tiny, wooden shed. Merlin opened it and led him down the stairs into an expansive basement.

 

On the far wall hung six screens, each showing a different image. Seated in an oversized easy chair was a man with dark hair.

 

Merlin smiled and walked around to the chair, pulling the earphones off the man’s head. The man started and jumped out of the chair, pulling Merlin into a hug.

 

“Warlock!” he exclaimed. “It’s the end of the fucking world!” He then caught sight of Arthur. “Cops? Since when are you dealing with cops? You know I don’t allow cops into the lair.”

 

Arthur snorted.

 

“He…he’s not a cop. He’s a cousin…from…America.” Merlin lied, badly.

 

“It doesn’t matter who I am,” Arthur said. “You’re the man to tell us what the hell is going on.”

 

Gwaine turned to Arthur. “Its not good. It’s the apocolypse.”

 

“How do we stop it? And who’s in charge?” Arthur asked.

 

“From the buzz online, looks like this is your guy,” Gwaine pulled up a picture of a young man. His unruly black hair and bright blues eyes caused Arthur to glance at Merlin.

 

“You related to him by any chance?” he asked.

 

Merlin shook his head.

 

“Meet Mordred no last name. Story goes he was working for the government, one of those exceptional kids programs. He warned them that the system was fragile. He walked into the Prime Minister’s office, and hacked the government email server then into the MoD’s secret projects server.”

 

Arthur frowned. That just wasn’t possible. “What happened to him?”

 

“They had him arrested and tried for treason. He escaped from prison about two years ago and went off the grid.”

 

“Yeah, but what does he want now?” Merlin asked.

 

“Only what’s due to me,” came Mordreds voice. All three turned and saw Mordred large as life on the six screens.

 

“You hacked me?” Gwaine shouted. And lunged for his keyboard, frantically typing in command after command.

 

“It’s useless. Mac? Really?” Mordred taunted Gwaine.

 

“Oh, fuck off,” Gwaine muttered.

 

Arthur noticed a small block on the screen that showed the three men. Mordred had activated one of the webcams. He tracked it until he found the right one. Placing his hand over the lense, he gestured to Gwaine and Merlin to start tracking the signal.

 

“It’s pointless DI Pendragon,” Mordred smirked on the screen. “My system can’t be traced. Why not stop while you’re ahead?”

 

“You see, now you’re just giving me no choice. I have to come stop you.” Arthur said, crossing his arms over his chest.

 

Another screen popped up, showing Morgana in an elevator. He watched as the elevator stopped and Morgana looked around confused. He recognised the elevator as that of Pendragon HQ. They had a back up generator running. Morgana pulled out her cellphone and dialled 999. They heard the call go through and Mordred answer it.

 

“Emergency services, what is your emergency?”

 

“I’m stuck in the elevator at my office,” Morgana huffed. Arthur wondered what she was doing at the office so late anyway. He really had to have another talk with her about her safety.

 

“I have your location. We’ll send someone along to help you out,” Mordred smirked and Arthur felt the need to punch him. Really hard.

 

“You leave her the hell alone!” Merlin shouted.

 

“Goodbye,” Mordred broke the connection.

 

“Did you get him?” Arthur asked Gwaine.

 

“No, but I was able to put a tracker on it. Seems they keep moving.” Gwaine said.

 

“Where are they heading?” Arthur asked.

 

“Hertford,” Gwaine said.

 

“What the hell is in Hertford?” Arthur felt like the goose chasing was getting old.

 

“Nothing,” answered Merlin.

 

“Wrong,” said Gwaine.

 

“No, Gwaine, this is not the time for your conspiracy theory rants,” Merlin interjected.

 

“Its not a conspiracy if it's true,” Gwaine countered. “Hertford houses a military research facility. But that’s not all. They are protecting the offline servers that aren’t connected to the grid.”

 

“What’s on these servers?” Arthur asked.

 

“Don’t know, but the security alone makes me wonder. Better guarded than the crown jewels.”

 

Arthur grabbed his keys. “Let’s go.”

 

The sun was just starting to lighten the sky as they left Wales and headed back towards London.

Merlin slept.

 

**

 

As they approached Hertford, Merlin woke up. Ergh, the countryside. He hated the outdoors. The sun was too bright, the air too fresh and the bugs bugged him.

 

He stole a glance at Arthur and he winced. Arthur’s face was pale, eyes dark from no sleep and his mouth was set in a thin line. Mordred was going to regret messing with this DI, Merlin decided.

He thought back to the kiss on the bridge. He hadn’t actually meant to kiss Arthur. It just kind of happened. Merlin was just grateful the DI hadn’t shot him for it…yet.

 

“Want me to drive for a bit?” Merlin asked, stretching in the passenger seat.

 

Arthur shrugged. “It’s ok.”

 

The silence settled thick and suffocating between them. Merlin flipped on the radio. Nothing but static. He pulled out his mobile and began typing furiously.

 

Arthur simply raised an eyebrow. “Thought the networks were down.”

 

“They are,” Merlin answered, not looking up. “I’m jumping on the satellite feed.”

 

“What are they hiding in Hertford?” Arthur asked aloud, mostly to himself.

 

“Many theorists believe that the government keeps the economy there,” Merlin recited from the screen. He looked up and caught Arthur’s eye. “They’re going to bankrupt the United Kingdom. The ultimate reset button!”

 

“I doubt he’s going to get much, the recession has already seen to that.”

 

Merlin huffed a laugh. “You’re kidding right? There is so much money that hasn’t been touched. Pensions, government budgets, World Bank installments. Billions of pounds just sitting there.”

 

Arthur pressed harder on the gas. “We’ll just have to beat them to it.”

 

When the pair pulled up to the facility, everything was deathly quiet.

 

“Stay here,” Arthur said, getting out of the car.

 

Merlin opened his door and followed Arthur, who rolled his eyes. “You’ve got a serious problem with authority, don’t you?” he said.

 

Merlin shrugged. “You need me,” he stated and followed Arthur as they neared the building.

 

Bodies littered the guard house, blood spilling from the bullet holes in their heads. Merlin swallowed repeatedly. “You know, no matter how often I see dead bodies, I still can’t get used to it. Do you?” he asked Arthur, who had pulled his gun from the holster on his hip.

 

“You never get used to it, Merlin. If you do, you need a new line of work. Now, keep quiet and stay behind me.”

 

They ran towards the building, eyes open, roving around. Arthur led Merlin through a door that had it’s locks blown off.

 

“At least we know they’re here,” Merlin whispered. Arthur shot him a withering glare and continued down a corridor.

 

Merlin stopped short. “Do you even know where we’re going?”

 

Arthur stopped and turned towards him. “To find the bad guys.” The duh was very loud.

 

Merlin huffed a laugh. “You’re joking, right? Do you even know what we’re looking for?”

 

Arthur’s lips pulled into a thin line. “I thought so,” Merlin sighed. “We’re looking for servers. A lot of them. They should be close to a central cooling system.”

 

“And where, Mr. Expert Hacker, are we going to find that?”

 

Merlin looked around and spotted a conveniently placed electronic map of the building. He stepped closer and began typing in commands, bringing up the building’s blue prints. He could feel Arthur stand behind him. The hairs on the back of his neck rose and he shivered.

 

“You ok?” Arthur asked.

 

Merlin nodded and continued going through the blue prints until he saw something that looked familiar.

 

“There,” he pointed to an empty space in the map.

 

“There’s nothing there,” Arthur pointed out.

 

“Of course there is. They just don’t want to advertise it.”

 

After plotting the course, they made their way into the service stairwell, quickly heading towards the basement. Arthur made quick work of the two heavies patrolling the stairwell, pushing Merlin into a corner to keep him safe.

 

He would never, ever admit it out loud, but watching Arthur take down the two bad guys with nothing but his wits and some smooth karate moves, had Merlin’s blood buzzing with adrenaline, pushing most of his blood into his pants. His hormones had the worst timing ever.

 

Soon they came to the door that led to the server room. Arthur tried the handle, but it didn’t budge. As he pulled out his gun to shoot out the lock, Merlin stopped him with a hand to the chest. Arthur looked at the hand pressing against his rather sweaty, rancid shirt that had begun life as a crisp oxford, but after this was doomed to the rubbish bin.

 

“What?” He hissed, annoyed and perturbed at the rush he felt at Merlin’s touch. Must be the adrenaline and exhaustion.

 

“You can’t just shoot the lock, you clotpole.” Arthur raised an eyebrow. “It’s five inch solid steel, with a random access number sequence guarding it.”

 

“Well, crack it then”

 

Merlin gaped at Arthur. “I can’t just wave my hand and it opens. It takes weeks to crack something this complicated.”

 

“You haven’t even looked at it yet. I bet the password is something stupid like Mordor or something.”

 

Merlin huffed a laugh. “Mordor? Look who just revealed their inner geek.” He moved to the console and began typing in commands. “What the hell?”

 

“Please don’t tell me you’ve just launched a nuclear weapon,” Arthur rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

 

“No, it’s just…I know this code. I fucking wrote it!” After a few seconds, the door slid open with a quiet whoosh. “Your majesty,” Merlin bowed obnoxiously and waved a hand for Arthur to head in first.

 

Arthur ignored his antics and stepped into the server room, gun at the ready, sweeping across the area. The only sound was the gentle hum from the processors. He spotted a large console and waved Merlin towards it. “See what they did and try to reverse it.”

 

Merlin muttered about being abused and that he wasn’t actually a magical warlock like Harry Potter, but headed towards the console, plugged in his tablet and began typing.

 

Arthur stood at his back, surveying the room, praying no one would come bother them. He desperately needed to lie down, possibly sleep for a day or five. And if his imagination conjured up Merlin in the bed with him, naked, he blamed it on extenuating circumstances.

 

“Could you hurry this along?” He asked tersely.

 

Merlin paused typing for a second before resuming. “This isn’t like loading an OS, okay. This is intricate…fuck! They’ve already loaded the virus.”

 

“Then anti-virus it, or whatever it is you do.” Arthur turned to see what Merlin was doing. The screen reminded him of the opening to the Matrix. Code running all over it.

 

“It’s…complicated. You can’t just anti-virus something unless you know what the virus is.”

 

“But you wrote it, didn’t you?” Arthur was getting annoyed and the pit of his stomach was warning him about impending doom. Or maybe it was because he hadn’t eaten in two days.

 

“I wrote part of it. And I didn’t know it was a fucking virus,” Marlin snapped.

 

The sound of a gun cocking and the cold press of metal against the nape of his neck stopped Arthur’s retort, which, in his opinion, was very witty.

 

“Thank God you’ve kept quiet, now I can fucking work,” Merlin muttered.

 

“Stop typing and unplug your equipment,” came an icy voice from behind.

 

Merlin froze and turned around. Arthur stood frozen; a gun pressed to his neck by a goon the size of three Arthurs. He shot Arthur a questioning look.

 

“What?” Arthur grit out.

 

“Well? Aren’t you gonna take him out?” Merlin asked, stepping in front of his set up.

 

“Pray tell,” Arthur spat out. “How the hell do you expect me to do that when he has a gun to my head.”

 

Merlin shrugged. “I don’t know. You always think of something.”

 

“You’re a w-“

 

“Shut up!” the goon roared. “Undo what you’ve done and unplug.”

 

“No,” Merlin said, crossing his arms.

 

“I will shoot him,” the goon threatened, pushing his gun harder against Arthur’s neck.

 

“If you were gonna shoot him, you’d have done it already,” Merlin countered.

 

“Merlin, stop taunting the bad guy and do what he says,” Arthur said his voice tight.

 

The two stared each other down. The goon began to get antsy and pressed his gun harder, pushing Arthur’s head forward.

 

Merlin stepped back. “You know, I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he said to the goon.

 

“And why not? I’ve got the gun.” The goon replied.

 

“Yeah, but you also –“

 

“-left my arms free, you asshole,” Arthur finished, grabbing the goon’s hand and twisting the gun up and away from his head. The goon pressed the trigger, firing off two shots into the roof. Merlin, in an act of pure self-preservation, hit the floor and pushed himself under the console as Arthur wrestled with the goon. Merlin wasn’t a betting man, per se, but in this instance, his money was on the goon.

 

“Merlin,” Arthur shouted before taking a punch to the gut. “Keep working.” He wheezed before tackling the goon to the floor. Only, the goon shook him off like an annoying toddler. Arthur flew across the floor, into a bank of severs.

 

Merlin snapped out of his panic and quickly went back to his tablet, typing furiously. The goon advanced on Merlin, picking him up by the scruff of his neck and throwing him over the console. Merlin landed hard and slid across the floor before hitting a floor level vent. As he staggered to his feet, Arthur pounced on the goon, wrapping an arm around his neck, attempting to strangle him. With this distraction, Merlin jumped to his feet, ignoring the pangs of pain all over his body, and went back to the console, typing furiously. After a few seconds, he breached the code and began rewriting it to kill the virus. He jumped as three rapid fire shots rang out. Turning around, he prayed to Whedon, that Arthur was not lying in a pool of blood.

 

It was, in fact, the goon. Three holes in his forehead wept blood with Arthur standing over him, the smoking gun in his hand.

 

Arthur looked up. “Done?” he asked.

 

Merlin nodded, packed up his gear with trembling hands and swallowed down the bile threatening to rise.

 

“Let’s go.” Arthur said and led them out of the server room.

 

“So, what now?” Merlin asked as they trudged towards the car.

 

“Now, we find that asshole and kill him,” said Arthur, wiping a stray drop of blood from his eye that dripped from the cut above his eyebrow.

 

“But we don’t know where they are.” Merlin said.

 

“Then you need to find them. What was that anyway?” Arthur asked, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder.

 

“The virus was scanning the server, picking up the account numbers and rerouting all the cash to a central account.” Merlin said.

 

“Did you stop it?” Arthur asked.

 

Merlin frowned and shook his head. “I didn’t have time. But I put a trace on it and it’ll lead us to the account, and probably to Mordred.”

 

Arthur turned and grabbed Merlin by the collar of his Black Keys t-shirt, pushing him against the car. “That’s not good enough, Merlin. I need to find that wanker and find him now!”

 

“You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t want to stop him as well? He blew up my flat! With all my stuff! Important stuff!”

 

Arthur growled.

 

“Ok, so maybe not as important as your sister, but it was still important to me!”

 

Arthur sighed and closed his eyes. He was just so very, very tired. He pulled Merlin into a hug. “Are you okay?”

 

“Bruised and battered and I could do with a red bull, but yeah, I’m ok.” Merlin returned the hug. They stood like that for a long moment before Arthur disentangled himself and cleared his throat.

 

“Right. Well, what does your tracker say? Where is he?” he said, climbing into the car. Merlin went around to the other side and climbed in. He pulled out his tablet and typed in a few commands.

 

“It…the money is going to Switzerland. Such a fucking cliché, but what can you do?”

 

“But does it tell us where he is now?” Arthur turned over the engine and it spluttered to life.

 

“No, but this one IP keeps popping up. I think it could be him. It shows that they’re…oh fuck…they’re in the middle of nowhere.”

 

“No such thing. Where are they?”

 

“A field. About 50 kilometres from here. North.” Merlin pointed west. Arthur rolled his eyes and gunned the engine, speeding in the right direction.

 

**

 

The two were silent as they drove towards the field. Arthur was fuming, fingers tight, knuckles white on the steering wheel. Merlin chewed the flesh of his thumb, trying to blink away the image of the dead goon in the server room.

 

“What’s that,” he pointed towards a large warehouse just off the road.

 

“That,” Arthur said, turning sharply into a service road on the right. “Is a hanger. For private planes.”

 

“Oh fuck,” Merlin gasped.

 

“Oh fuck indeed.”

 

**

 

They stopped about a mile from the hangar and went on foot. Merlin was going to have a serious talk to Arthur about dragging computer nerds through fields when they’re wearing converse and not hiking boots. He didn’t want to think about the three, at least three, cow pats he’d stood in.

 

As they neared the hangar, Arthur pulled him behind a fuel tank.

 

“Ok, you wait here. If I’m not back in fifteen minutes, go get back up.” Arthur said, checking his gun. He had four rounds left. Enough, by his count.

 

“You’re mental,” Merlin said.

 

“Possibly,” Arthur said and pulled Merlin in for a kiss.

 

It was the kiss of a man who didn’t expect to see the sun rise again. Merlin swallowed a groan and kissed back. Too soon, it ended and Arthur turned to leave.

 

Merlin grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

 

“Why do you do this? Why do you put your life on the line?” Merlin asked.

 

Arthur shrugged. “Someone’s got to do it.”

 

“But why you?”

 

“Who else?” With that, Arthur shrugged off Merlin’s hand and crept towards the hangar.

 

Merlin counted to fifty, blew out a sharp breath, and followed him. Arthur was not going to die tonight if Merlin could help it.

 

**

 

The hangar was lit up, bright as day. Henchmen were loading crates into a small plane while at a nearby table sat Mordred, furiously typing away on a laptop, muttering darkly. On a chair nearby sat Morgana, legs crossed, Louboutins tapping the floor in an irritated tattoo, scowl on her face and her arms tied behind her.

 

“You lecherous little wanker. Let me go.” She sneered.

 

“I’m busy. Someone silence her, before I shoot her,” Mordred said, not moving his eyes from the screen. A henchman stepped forward and pressed duct tape over her mouth. Morgana screamed in outrage.

 

“That fucking little newt,” Mordred muttered. “Thinks he can reroute my cash? My hard earned cash? Fuck, what did he…ah, child’s play.” The computer beeped. “Fuck!”

 

Arthur had left a trail of unconscious guards behind him, creeping up behind some barrels watching the scene unfold. He gripped his gun tightly and prepared to shoot Mordred.

 

Morgana’s eyes widened as she spotted the tell-tale golden hair of her brother. She was about to attract Mordred's attention when some guards burst in dragging a dark haired man between them. They threw him to the ground behind Mordred who turned in his seat.

 

“I thought I said no…what’s this?” he asked, kicking Merlin in the ribs.

 

“Found him sneaking about outside.” One of the guards said.

 

“And you bring him to me?” Mordred said, grabbing Merlin by the hair and pulling him up awkwardly. “Who are you?”

 

“No one,” said Merlin. “Got lost hiking.”

 

“Wait, I know you,” Mordred said, leaning closer. “Those ears…you’re that little snot programmer who won’t die!” Mordred dropped Merlin’s head and reached for his gun.

 

Arthur jumped up from behind the barrels. “I wouldn’t do that.” He pointed his gun at Mordred, arm steady, a deadly glint in his eye.

 

Mordred laughed. “You’re mad!” he said. “I’ve got an army outside.” His eyes slid to the two guards, standing weapons raised at Arthur. “Do you honestly expect to stop this?”

 

“Is this the part where you wax lyrical about your bad intentions?” Arthur said, gun still pointed at Mordred.

 

“It’s my prerogative.” Mordred smirked and pointed his gun at Merlin. “Now, if this little germ is who I think he is, he has some serious fixing to do. Up you get.” He pulled Merlin up by his hair and pushed him into the vacated chair. He then pushed the gun against Merlin’s head. “Stop the rerouting and send the money to the original account.”

 

“I…I don’t think I can,” Merlin was cut off as Mordred pressed the gun harder against his head.

 

“Maybe you need some incentive,” Mordred said, and quickly pointed it at Merlin’s leg. He pulled the trigger, releasing a shot into Merlin’s knee. Merlin screamed in pain, grabbing his bloody knee.

 

“You fucking, buggering, wanker cunt piece of shit,” Merlin rattled off.

 

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” Mordred sneered. “Start working.”

 

With bloodied, shaking hands, Merlin began typing. Arthur used all his self-control to stop from killing Mordred right there. The two guards still had their weapons trained on him and Morgana. He had to take them out first. And fast, before Merlin bled out. He prayed Mordred missed any major arteries.

Morgana caught his eye. She frowned and looked down. Arthur raised an eyebrow and frowned. She huffed and looked down again. She had turned her shoe around, the deadly spike heel pointed up.

 

Now, how the hell was he supposed to push a guard onto it? Morgana made a small kicking motion and raised an eyebrow.

 

You’re kidding, Arthur telegraphed with his eyes.

 

Morgana frowned, nodded and took three deep breaths. With the last one, she kicked out her foot, sending the lethal high heel towards the nearest guard. He deflected it, causing his partner to turn to him, giving Arthur the distraction he needed. Within seconds, the two guards were dead and he had turned on Mordred, who had turned and had his gun pointed at Arthur.

 

“You’re being a massive pain in my arse,” Mordred said. “I don’t like pains in the arse.”

 

Arthur saw Morgana roll her eyes behind Mordred. Arthur stepped forward, Mordred stepped back. Morgana leaned back in her seat, extending her legs. She nodded at Arthur who took another step forward, causing Mordred to take another step back.

 

Within the blink of an eye, Morgana kicked up, her foot connecting Mordred between the legs. With a howl, he dropped his gun, turned on Morgana and slapped her across the face. Arthur flew at him, taking him to the ground in a tackle.

 

Merlin stopped typing and turned in his seat, wincing at the shooting pain in his leg. The two men were locked in a brutal wrestling match, punches flying, hair being pulled and teeth sinking into exposed flesh. He crawled out of his seat and pulled himself towards Morgana. With trembling hands and vanishing eyesight, he undid the ropes holding her hostage.

 

She flew from her seat, dived over the wrestling men and grabbed Mordred’s gun, kicking Arthur’s dropped weapon towards Merlin who looked at it like she’d just sent a snake his way.

 

“Stop,” Morgana said, cocking the gun “or I’ll shoot you.”

 

Mordred had Arthur in a headlock, lying beneath him, using his body as a shield. “You wouldn’t shoot your own brother.” He taunted.

 

Arthur smirked and nodded at Morgana. She fired, the bullet passing through Arthur’s shoulder and into Mordred’s chest.

 

“I’ve wanted to do that for years,” she smirked before rushing towards Arthur, pulling him off Mordred and firing one last shot point blank into his head. Arthur rolled away towards Merlin, who was slumped up against the table legs.

 

“Merlin, Merlin, are you okay?”

 

“She shot you,” Merlin said, pupils dilated.

 

“Fuck, Morgana, get on the radio, get some help!” Arthur shouted, ignoring the numbness in his arm.

 

“She shot you,” Merlin repeated.

 

“Yeah, I know.”

 

“And…he shot me. In the leg. I just…” Merlin’s head began to nod.

 

“No, Merlin…Merlin…stay awake!” Arthur shouted, grabbing him by the leg and pressing on the wound.

 

Merlin screamed, but it worked. He went back to babbling. In the distance, Arthur could hear sirens.

 

**

 

Two days later…

 

“I can’t believe your own sister shot you,” Merlin said for the hundredth time that day. The two were in opposite hospital beds, facing each other. Arthur’s arm was resting in a sling while Merlin sat with his leg elevated. Mordred had missed the knee cap, but hit some cartilage. Merlin would forever walk with a limp. Just thinking about it made Arthur want to go out and kill Mordred all over again.

 

“Yes, I know. It was part of our plan.” Arthur said, enjoying the custard and jelly from the hospital canteen.

 

“Some plan that was,” Merlin huffed. “It was stupid. What if she’d missed your shoulder and hit you in the chest instead?”

 

“I didn’t think you cared.”

 

“Of course I care! You clotpole. You’re...You saved the day!”

 

Arthur put down his dessert and climbed out of the bed carefully avoiding pulling the stitches in his shoulder. He shuffled across to Merlin’s bed and gently nudged him over.

 

“What do you think you’re...Arthur!”

 

Arthur climbed into the bed next to him and with a finger, nudged Merlin’s chin closer. He then pushed forward and planted a kiss on Merlin’s lips.

 

“And that?” Merlin asked.

 

“You’re talking too much,” Arthur pressed another kiss and kept kissing him until the nurses came in to check their dressing. He continued once they’d left.

 

The End.

 


End file.
